Time

I don't wear a watch. I would look at it too much and so many clocks are around anyway! Each day begins with a sirening alarm that provides the option to snooze time briefly. Later, when work begins, I do not think about time for patient care versus teaching versus administration versus research. I do what is on my schedule, listed with the time right beside it, next to the next thing I will be doing.

Days pass and on that uncommon occasion like today when a few hours are left unpenned in my book, I reflect. What am I doing? It seems that much of each day is spent in frenzied juggling of all the items jammed into a schedule: walking and talking in the office area, the clinics, the hospital, interacting with patients and nurses, support staff and colleagues, students and residents, addressing pressing issues at hand. Trying to think ahead and plan is difficult -- it's the two minute warning in the 4th quarter and I've got 80 yards to go to win the game. This game is played every day. The last thing I want is for someone on the team to be disappointed or hurt.

Time becomes precious when each moment seems over-committed. Unpredictable communications by pages, emails, voice mails and letters gather minutes in response, as one always tries not to fall behind in the day. This allows for little other distraction and forces efficiency and focus. This is good as more can be accomplished. Yet, a person must not forget to take time for himself. Otherwise, it will be more difficult to help others. It's a balance!

Earlier in time today I visited two of my patients in the hospital. Ms. O., now in her eighties, fell at home and was admitted with a urinary tract infection. We quickly talked about her progress and when I began to leave her room, she told me to stay there, sternly asserting, "Because I say so." I sat down and we talked about her father and her family and how she wished she still were 21 years old. Later, I dropped by the Intensive Care Unit to see Ms. M., who two hours before had a malignant lesion removed from her pancreas. She was groggy, attached to IV's and monitors, and slowly raised her eyelids to recognize me. I held her hand and she said, "Thank you for coming to see me." This time spent today was precious for these patients and for myself.